Adriana Watkins

Though the Superbowl is a few weeks past, it is profitable to talk for a moment about a controversial advertisement premiered during the game. The spot in question was created by Ram, the
automobile company, to promote a line of pickup trucks. Instead, the ad promoted passionate discussions over its voiceover material—a 1968 sermon by the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr., titled
“The Drum Major Instinct.”

The United States has faced a particularly dire flu season this winter, with the number of cases rising weekly from November into February. All regions of the country have reported
higher-than-normal levels of flu activity, according to the CDC, with the expected total of hospitalizations reaching the hundreds of thousands. The peak seems to be leveling off, though
officials warn the flu will still continue to circulate in the weeks to come.

As the January cold settled in, and students enclosed themselves in their dorm rooms, the Boston College Theatre Department debuted No
Exit. The play ran from January 26-28 in the Bonn Studio—a space that became, for the weekend, a glimpse into Hell.

It’s early December. You’re in the car. The radio DJ announces that “Silent Night” is playing next, with a verse in
the original German. “German?” you think to yourself. You often forget this classic carol wasn’t written in English—and perhaps you feel a sense of discontent. Do you
even know what Christmas looks like in
Germany? Or in Kenya? Or in the Philippines? Your own traditions and memories of the holiday bring you plenty of joy—but what does this joy look like for others?

On Sunday, November 12, Fr. James Martin, S.J., visited St. Ignatius Parish to lecture on methods of LGBT inclusion. The talk, which was well-attended, drew interested members from both the St.
Ignatius community and the Boston College student body. The lecture was based on Fr. Martin’s recently published book, Building a Bridge, which identifies ways in which “the Catholic
Church and the LGBT community can enter into a relationship of respect, compassion, and sensitivity.” He elaborated on each of these three aspects individually, attempting to describe his own
vision for dialogue and acceptance.

At this moment, you’re one Google search away from Donald Trump’s eight-year Twitter history—a corpus composed of 36,200 messages. Often, even those who don’t use Twitter end up seeing or hearing
about these 140-character media bursts, a series of “sound-bytes” that tells us what the President is thinking, doing, or planning. Many users appreciate the updates (Trump has some 41 million
followers) while others critique his use of social media (a quick Google search will show you that). While there are strong opinions on both sides, few voices argue that his presence on Twitter
is unimportant.

Sensing a need for increased understanding between clergy and families, Pope Francis released his papal exhortation Amoris Laetitia in April of 2016. The document, whose title means
“Joyful Love,” enumerated several challenges facing the modern family. It was intended as a starting point for further conversation, and in a recent symposium, Boston College provided an
environment in which to continue this discussion.

Recently, after the recommendation of a friend, I listened to Taylor Swift’s new song, “Look What You Made Me Do.” Now, I realize this song has been circulating for about a month, and any attempt
to address it would seem passé. However, the opportunity to examine these lyrics and discuss their implications is too tempting.

On Sunday, September 17, four Boston College juniors were attacked with hydrochloric acid while traveling in southern France. The incident, which occurred around 11 A.M., took place in the
Marseille-St. Charles train station, and was committed by a mentally-unstable woman. Two of the juniors were injured in the attack, though they are making a full recovery. Meanwhile, the students
have been lauded for expressing their compassion towards their attacker, whose illness, said one, “should not be villainized.”

The Catholic Church is good at celebrating. After the seemingly-endless forty days of Lent, there comes a parade of feasts; we pack more holidays into twenty-four hours than greeting-card
companies can invent arbitrarily. There’s a lot going on this time of year. Here’s an example: all at once, it can be the Friday of the Octave of Easter and St. Anselm’s feast day
and the eighth day of the Divine Mercy novena…take a breath when you can!

But it’s that last event I’d like to focus on—the Divine Mercy novena. Sunday, April 23, marks the conclusion of this annual prayer. Beginning on Easter, participants recite a Divine Mercy
chaplet once a day, offering each devotion to a different group of people. The first day, for example, is dedicated “to all mankind,” while subsequent days are focused on more specific groups
like priests, unbelievers, and the souls in Purgatory. These devotions (along with the chaplet prayer itself) were given by Christ to St. Faustina Kowalska in a series of visions. You can read
about them in her personal diaries.

Everywhere we look, there’s news. Televised broadcasts, online articles, nicely printed papers like this one—countless voices crying out, “You need to know this.” Sometimes a piece of news
divides our lives in two: before and after. That is the story of the Annunciation. Commemorated on March 25, this feast commemorates the angel Gabriel’s announcement of the Incarnation to Mary,
resulting in the most bizarre headline of all time—God becomes Man.

Here’s an experiment: stop a pedestrian walking down Commonwealth Avenue and inform them that, on a recent Friday, several million people worldwide lined up to have candles pressed on their
necks. You may receive some comical responses. As strange as the statement sounds, however, it describes the feast of St. Blaise, celebrated on February 3rd and accompanied by a “blessing of the
throats.” Though many of us are happy enough to accept the blessing as an obscure tradition, what do we know about its origins? How much do we know about St. Blaise himself? Asking ourselves
these questions can help us explain the cherished custom to that bewildered pedestrian.

If you heard rapturous applause emanating from Trinity Chapel this weekend, you can thank “Christmas on the Heights.” From December 2-4, the University Chorale and the Boston College Symphony
Orchestra (BCSO) held their winter concert, an event that would have been worth much more than the ten-dollar admission price. John Finney conducted a program of traditional carols, from “O Holy
Night” to a beautiful setting of the “Ave Maria.” The songs were listed in print alongside their national origins; this made it especially evident how the hymns wove together praises from
countries across the world.

Almost anyone who is a younger child knows the struggle of measuring up to their older siblings. You may roll your eyes a little bit when a friend tells you how wonderful your sister is, or how
polite your brother is growing up to be. And if you haven’t had that problem, don’t worry—Catholics have 10,000 older siblings, and they’re all perfect.

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas—and if it feels like it was just beginning to look a lot like Halloween, that’s because it was only three weeks ago. But, like it or not, the tidal
waves of red and green have begun to roll in. You may be ecstatic, or you may be making a feeble attempt to “at least celebrate Thanksgiving first” as you decorate your room with turkeys instead
of colored lights. Either way, you’re bound to find Christmas around every corner, and it begs the question: Is there a right time to get into the holiday spirit?

If somebody says a task will take about twenty minutes, most of us won’t consider that a burdensome amount of time. But if somebody says, “Let’s pray a Rosary,” we’re suddenly aware of the
enormity of each passing second. We even check how many beads are left in the decade. (How many now? Six. How many now? Five and a half.)

If you’ve turned on your radio more than once this year, you may be a little sick of “Ride.” You’ve probably also heard your fair share of friends belting the chorus of “Stressed Out,” and the
pop music culture in general seems to have taken up a policy of Twenty One Pilots, Twenty One Thousand Times a Day. What exactly attracts so many listeners to this band? The music is catchy,
sure, but plenty of music is catchy. There must be something in the lyrics that draws us in, and the more I listen to these songs, the more I think the draw runs deeper than the buzz of a few
overplayed songs.